


9 First Sins

by Oienel



Category: 7 First Kisses, EXO (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Biting, Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Clothed Sex, Cock Rings, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugs, Dry Humping, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Mild Painplay, Mutual Masturbation, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Riding Crops, Sex Toys, Spanking, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oienel/pseuds/Oienel
Summary: Reinterpretation of 7 First Kisses. With EXO and porn instead of dates.





	1. Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> It's my one year anniversary story - it's been exactly one year since I started writing, and I am quite happy! And proud.

“Wouldn’t you want it though?”

You shrug, and turn page. Your friend took your bed In their possession, and you are left to sit on the chair. Not that you care, really. It’s one of those lazy afternoons that lately seem to come in great numbers.

You are at your desk reading yet another stupid magazine, with perfect girl on the cover surrounded with diets and sex tips articles – obvious baits. And yet you find yourself staring blindly in black-and-red page, with sensual photo on the side.

Your friend is sprayed on your bed with another magazine, and you know that she tries to hold a meaningful conversation with you, but you can’t really be bothered with that.

You are bored.

You feel like you are living in perpetual pause, as if your life was a constant loop, devoid of future prospects. Your life is reduced to waiting. You wait till the end of the day, till the end of the week, till the end of the month, till the end of semester, till the end of year… But the end never brings anything. It’s just another passed line, that shows you that there is another one waiting.

You sigh, and sag in your chair, resting head on the backrest, looking up at the spotless ceiling. You sigh.

“At this point I would gladly accept any form of entertainment.”

You hear your bed creaking, and you turn sideways in your swivel chair, giving your friend a side glance. She moved, so she is laying on her side, looking just as bored as you feel.

“God, we need to get off.” She wheezes, and you snort incredulously. She squints at you. “I am serious.”

“Bet you are. I am sure that orgasm is the best way to beat boredom.”

Of course she catches the sarcasm in your voice. It probably irks her, because she sits up abruptly.

“It is!”

You roll your eyes, pointing to the bedside drawer.

“Believe me, when I tell you that orgasm can be boring as well.”

Your friend seems unconvinced, but she scoots to open your drawer. There is a slight pause, when she looks inside, and then she just pulls out your vibrator out of its confines. It startles you.

“What the f–“ You ask, jumping up – you would never have thought that she would just take it out. But she seems unfazed as she dangles it in front of your face.

“You just need to spice up your sex life! Do you really believe that this is all there is to orgasms?”

You roll your eyes and snatch your toy out of her hands and stuff it back in your drawer.

“Sure, I will go out and find myself Christian Grey so he can show me colorful world of orgasms.” You muse, irony oozing from your words.

There is magazine flying at your head. You notice it only when it hits you, but before you can voice your complains, your friend is talking.

“I am serious!”

“Sure.”

“Why are you always so difficult?” She asks, angry, and you feel a pin-prick of shame, but you still can’t muster enough will to care. Your friend stares at you, clearly waiting for you to say something, but when you don’t she sighs. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

You watch her walk out of your room. It could be considered dramatic, and not the best possible way to part ways, but you know that by tomorrow you both will put this past you. It’s just… You are just too lifeless.

But as it usually happens, in the end you keep thinking about it. Not the fact that your friend walked out on you, but her words. Spicing up your sex life, different ways to find release, various kinks finding their real-life scenarios, new experiences.

You fixate on it, you picture it in your mind, you dream up varied plots, every time you close your eyes, you can see it behind your eyelids. You can feel the touch on your skin, breeze on your neck, warmth on your thighs.

By the time you go to bed you are strung out, and more than ready to use your trusty toy, but when you roll on your bed to reach for it – you realize, now it’s not going to be enough. It’s too boring, to dull.

You roll on your back, and sigh – wearily, audibly, and close your eyes – trying to calm yourself down.

That’s when you feel your bed dip.  


	2. Chen

You sit up alarmed, heart in your throat, and you only register that there is man sitting next to you, before he surges forward and kisses you.

It should feel weird, you should be panicked, but kiss is familiar. Lips on yours are familiar, and you answer them as if you did it many times before – and it feels as if you did. Dexterous fingers  find the hem of your simple shirt, you feel those knuckles brush on your abdomen as he lifts the garment up – and you have no qualms letting him do that. It feels _right._

And there is no hesitation in your movements when your fingers go on a journey to find buttons of man’s collar shirt. You manage to pop two of them open, and he makes you stop, so he can take off your own shirt. Cloth falls to the ground, and there are hands splayed on your sides, and there are teeth pinching the skin of your neck, and you moan, name – weirdly familiar, as if you’ve moaned it often enough – falls from your mouth.

“Jongdae–“ He hums, or growls, you are not exactly sure, but pleasant shiver goes down your spine. You exhale through your nose, and he pushes you back until your body hits the mattress. In seconds he is on top of you, his hands working his shirt open – while you just lay there, already feeling overwhelmed.

_What the fuck is even happening–_

But then Jongdae’s mouth find yours once again, and he bites your lower lip, teeth rolling flesh between them, and you keen in your throat, feeling how your arousal liquefies between your legs. There is nearly nothing to stop you from leaking on your bed – flimsy excuse for pajama shorts you have on not enough of a protection.

And just like that it’s gone.

You’ve never imagined that your day would end with you naked on your sheets with strange-yet-so-familiar man with a smile dancing on his lips between your legs.

But you don’t find a slightest need to complain, when your fingers run down his naked torso. Skin is smooth, but the muscles underneath are hard.

As wrong as it sounds – it’s appetizing.

So is his cock, not yet erect, but surely getting there.

Your mind is clouded, but you know it’s not only fault of your arousal – you are definitely fizzy, but you cannot catch the thing that is making you that way.

And you promptly forget about it, when Jongdae’s hand creeps under your back, and splays on your sacrum, and he rolls on your bed, bringing you on top of him.

You sit up, feeling how his penis rests on your hip, and your hands fall down to Jongdae’s chest. It’s the first time since you found him next to you, that you really look at him. He is relaxed, muscles in his face lax – he is comfortable, just like a person in bed with their lover usually is. His lips are curved upwards at their ends, and you realize that not only he is smiling – corners of his mouth are naturally curved. His eyes are squinted, but it’s because he is admiring your body, full on display before him.

It makes you shiver once again.

And he senses that, because he smiles, baring his teeth, his eyes disappearing even more. His left eyebrow minutely jumps up, and his right hand splays on your hip – you can feel the smooth metal of his ring on your skin.

“Do you have–“ You don’t recognize your own voice, it’s heavy and raspy with your arousal. But Jongdae doesn’t need you to finish your thought, he is already waving a condom in front of your face and pushing it into your hand. You would have sworn that it wasn’t there just a second ago.

But one should not look gifted horse in the mouth, and your fingers clench around package, and you are suddenly aware of the hot weight of his dick on your hip. You lift the package up, to fit it between your teeth, so you can tear it open.

Jongdae’s breath hitches, when you roll condom on him and it makes you lightheaded. Your hand secures his cock in place, and you don’t wait for anything else to happen, you lift your hips, wanting to feel him.

_It’s glorious._

Every millimeter burns – sending electric shocks up your nerve system, but it’s just perfect. You relish every second of this slow slide down – and he seems to be savoring it just as much, judging from his half-lidded eyes, and tint on his cheeks.

You don’t have enough patience to reach home, somewhere halfway on your trip you just snap your hips up, wanting to just lose yourself in friction.

Jongdae’s hips come off the bed, chasing yours.

It surprises you, your hands sliding up his chest ever-so-slightly, your nails digging into the flesh in your try not to lose your purchase.

Jongdae moans, loudly, unabashedly, and little voice in your head reminds you that _yes, he is vocal._ But where does knowledge comes from? You have no idea.

This time you slide all the way home, and this time you both moan, your voices harmonizing together in lewd chorus.

You believe it’s the sound that makes you raise again, or maybe his urging (and bruising) hold on your hip, but it’s definitely him raising from the mattress to meet you halfway that makes you keen in your throat.

It’s so utterly perfect.

It goes like that, you strain your muscles to raise up, and he meets you when you go down, feeling how deep he hits you, how your legs protest, how your knees chafe on the sheets, , how your hands slide on his sweaty skin and how you sink your nails into his skin, to keep yourself from losing balance and to keep you anchored.

Because, sure as hell, you need that.

With every thrust your stomach hollows, and you fall slightly forward, sending drops of your sweat flying, your hair sticking to your skin, but he never stops looking at you, admiration entirely apparent in his eyes, as you move on top of him.

He probably searches for better leverage when he bends his legs at his knees, but it makes you lose your equilibrium, and your hands slide up his chest, across his clavicles and catch on his neck, before falling to the mattress on both sides of his head. You stop there, your hair falling down, tickling his face, and you freeze.

Not because you are startled or afraid that something wrong happened. It’s because suddenly Jongdae is flushed, and his nostrils are flared, and he is staring at you with sharp attention,  the potent smell of his arousal overpowering your senses.

He doesn’t have to say a word.

You know, you _somehow_ know.

You straighten back, whimpering when you feel his cock shifting inside you, and you can feel how he observes you with rapt attention.

Your necklace on your bedside drawer catches your eye. You don’t remember leaving it there. You don’t remember the last time you wore it – but it’s one of those made of many delicate chains, that tends to rattle with your every step.

You surge forward, earning a pained whisper from Jongdae, and you grab the accessory, and you just push it into Jongdae’s hand.

He stares at it for a second, not understanding, and you decide that you want him to realize on his own.

He doesn’t let you down. He understands.

And the eagerness he emanates, when he relaxes back is every incentive you might have needed.

His right hand is still on your hip, but his left goes up, over his hand, his fingers clenching on the chains as if it was his life buoy.

It is.

You raise up again,  your body that has just calmed down going back to its strung out self. You go down, and once again you raise up, relishing the feeling and relishing the anticipation surging through your veins.

“Please.”

It’s one word. One word uttered in this low and husky tone, filled to the brim with blunt desire. One word for you to break.

One of your hands that splayed back on his chest, moves forward.

You stare him square in the eyes, when your hand find his throat, thumb sliding down the right side of his neck, with the rest of your fingers encircling it from the left side – your hand perfectly fitting under his Adam’s apple.

One last check – your eyes falling down to his neck, your fingers splayed threateningly, or maybe teasingly. Maybe lovingly. The difference in the skin tones is suddenly striking, and you feel captivated.

Your fingers twitch, and he moans – it’s lower than previous ones, more piercing, more deprived.

You react even without thinking about it, your fingers clenching ever-so-slightly, cutting air supply for him.

His hips buck under you and you wheeze.

It’s _hot._ He looks _hot_ , with your fingers on his neck, being choked by you and so clearly enjoying it. You raise up and once again he meets you when you go down. You moan and unclench your fingers.

There is a rapt inhale, and your name leaving those chapped lips.

You moan, and without a thought you clench your fingers once again.

Your reward is his thumb on your clitoris.

You lose yourself after that. You ride him in abandon, barely remembering to let him breath, discreet rattling of your necklace reminding you of this important detail. But even though it’s Jongdae that is left without air, you can feel your own lungs burning. You stare at him, you stare at his face, as it flushes, as his eyes open, and then as it goes slack again, as his mouth fall open – and it’s you who forget to breath.

Your other hand is slipping, your muscles are cramping, you can feel his dick pulsing, and it’s amazing, and once again his mouth fall open, and his eyes roll back into his skull, and for a second adrenaline and fear overwhelms you, when you guess that he passed out – but he is coming, his hand that held onto your necklace finding your wrist and pushing your hand even harder against his throat, and you find it hot, so _hot,_  that you spasm, and you feel yourself tripping through the edge…

…and that’s when you feel your bed dip.  


	3. Chanyeol

You are laying on your back. You are disoriented, you are sure that a second ago you were reaching your orgasm on top of Jongdae, but you are laying on your back, with your top and flimsy pajama bottom on.

But even though there is no visible sign that your sex with Jongdae has happened, you feel hot, aroused, and ready to go anytime. You feel sweaty, but your skin is dry.

You feel cold fingers on your ankle and you jerk, having forgotten that just before _not_ reaching your orgasm you felt your bed dip, and you look down to see man sitting at your feet, with his hand circling your ankle.

It’s not Jongdae. You are pretty sure that you’ve never seen him, but he seems familiar, and when a name leaves your mouth in question, you are sure that you got the right one.

“Chanyeol?”

He just smiles. It’s a broad smile, shark-like, teeth on full display. He bring your leg up, his fingers still on your ankle, and you watch him with rapt attention not sure what is going to happen, but your mind forces you to be calm – as if you saw this happening many times, as if you were supposed to feel comfortable in his hands. Chanyeol winks at you, and changes hold on your leg, and then his teeth scrape the skin on your ankle, before closing around protruding bone.

Oh.

You exhale slowly, shifting on the bed. Chanyeol’s mouth slide up your calf, and you somehow instinctively flex your sole. Those white teeth close on your skin once again, and you swallow your saliva. It’s not yet painful, but you realize he is testing the waters, and that he is checking for far he can take you.

He opens his mouth a little more and his tongue comes out from between his lips to soothe your skin, and you might have whimpered.

He doesn’t look at you, but one of his eyebrows arch in this very playful expression, and then he is biting you mere millimeters above the previous section of skin. This time he goes right into it, and your mind has to start up, because you may have lost it for the second. Pain is sharp and penetrating, but you can’t find it uncomfortable.

Chanyeol shifts on the bed, coming farther up, settling deeper between your legs, his hand jerking your left leg even higher, his mouth sliding down, teeth sinking in soft tissue just before the knee.

You hiss, throwing your head back, your chest raising, your toes curling, but you can feel that your pajama bottom is getting wet.

You’ve never pinned yourself for masochist, but _damn_ you are seriously enjoying it.

Chanyeol’s lips are on the move again, and you whimper – the moment he releases his jaw, the blood circles back to the damaged tissue, and the pain just intensifies. Every mark that he left on his trail down your leg is pulsing, radiating with leftover pain, putting you on edge.

So quickly.

So skillfully.

His teeth close on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and he rolls the patch of it between his incisors.

You gasp, as its sting catches up to you, and your brain turns on the flight mechanism. You jerk in his hold, and you sit up, trying to fight it down. You are somehow embarrassed for that, but more importantly, between ­ _not-achieved-orgasm-with-Jongdae_ and Chanyeol’s teeth you are aroused out of your mind and you don’t want to wait.

So you mask your sudden movement with your hands coming down to take off your top, and in the sudden wave of playfulness you swing it across the room.

Chanyeol laughs, and it’s a deep and rumbling sound, and you can feel it on your skin, harmonizing nicely with your pulsing, abused leg. You don’t mind.

You shift again, but Chanyeol climbs up, pushing you down, his hands forcing your shoulders down, and your naked back drops on the bed, and you whine, and your hands come up, to push on your shoulders in turn, as you try to switch your positions.

“Stay.” The word is rasped into your ear, and then there are teeth on your earlobe, and you swear to god you have never dropped your defenses so quickly. His incisors on your skin go all in, and it seems like his jaws just snapped into place, and it hurts like _a bitch_ , but you don’t want him to stop, and you try to convey it by digging your fingers into his still clothed back.

Or maybe you just want to hurt him just like he is hurting you.

Maybe you want him to feel how amazing and purifying that feels.

Your leg is pulsing, your ear is pulsing, your blood is pulsing through your veins, and your vagina is throbbing, and you enjoy every single sensation that has to push its way through your overwhelmed brain.

It shouldn’t be pleasurable, it shouldn’t be stimulating, but as Chanyeol’s hands fall on your sides, fingers splaying on your ribcage, and his mouth slides to your neck, your first reaction is to crane it, expose it, so he can have his way with it.

And he does. Not surprisingly he bites down, only his self-restraint keeping him from breaking your skin, even though you can hear yourself begging for it. Your legs come up to circle on his waist, your arms circling his neck, your hand splaying on the back of his head to keep him close, to make sure that he won’t stop. Your abused thigh is pressing into his side ferociously stimulating the marks that he left there, playing with your nerves.

He moves down, and his teeth follow the outline of your shoulder, scrape the skin of your clavicles, but he refused to pick one spot and just claim it.

And you know, you don’t know how, but you know that there is nothing in this world that would force him to do something that he hasn’t decide on. You can plead, you can beg, you can cry, you can trash in his hold, nothing will change.

So you don’t.

One of your hands going to your neck and pressing on the tender tissue, tracing the swollen teeth marks, trying to get as much as you possibly can from it.

That’s when he decides to bite you again, the side of your breast, lower incisors brushing the underside before sinking in.

You half-gasp half-moan, but the pressure building in your crotch makes you snap your hips up, and you rub your crotch against Chanyeol’s stomach.

Good. _Good._

You are not exactly sure what pushed him to do that, but you can hear a groan that was probably formed deep in his chest, and the sound rumbles through your body, with its epicenter on the side of your chest.

The next bite is punishing, the next bite is edging into dangerous territory, the next one just brings the tears to your eyes, but you keep rutting into his abdomen as his teeth close around the tip of your nipple.

Your mouth fall open in a cry that can’t leave your throat, a cry that has never formed. Your nails are digging ferociously in the back of his head, the hand that was searching for more pain is clenching on the sheets. It’s too much, but at the same time it’s so, _so_ perfect. Your whole body is pulsing, the markings on your body sending waves through your organism, your blood gathered down between your legs, and somehow your head is getting light – you are reduced to the throbbing pain of your nipple – but truth be told you don’t experience it as pain anymore, it’s just…

So utterly amazing.

You cant your hips just right, you push your chest up, you spasm, and you can nearly feel it, you can feel it just outside your reach, and…

… that’s when you feel your bed dip.


	4. Sehun

You are getting a hang of how it works by now. Your pajama is back on, you are laying on your bed, itchiness under your skin driving you crazy. You fully expect to find new hands on your body, or maybe lips on your neck, and you are so ready for it, you are so ready to go back to your “tethering on the edge” stage.

But it doesn’t happen. The bed does dip, but not because some hot stud kneels on it to get to you, but because some hot stud throws himself on the bed, landing on your legs (which in hindsight was probably quite painful), in this I-am-really-done-with-this-shit manner.

“It’s boring.” He says and you have to raise your head to see his face, or at least the side of it. Where is your passionate loving, or at least steamy make out session?

But you take the bait, shifting to rest on your elbows.

“What is boring?” Sehun gestures vaguely at the bed, and you look around. Well your bed is exactly what it is supposed to be: a bed. “Bed is boring?”

He turns around and now your shins are trapped under his chest, and he slides his hand up your naked leg – you think that maybe you are finally getting somewhere, but he only pats your knee.

“Isn’t it?” Ok, nothing happened yet, but you are already done with this one. You are hoping for a good time and this one is taking a piss with you. You know that, because there is a gleam in his eyes.

And as if he felt your exasperation he sends you a killer smirk and kisses side of your knee. But you are not naive enough to believe that he will start now, and he doesn’t.

He stands up and looks around your room. You stare at him as he searches for something, resigned and already having decided to just follow the flow.

“A ha!” There is a happy exclamation and he is at your stereo browning through your music. He also doesn’t refrain from commenting on your music choices. “Damn, your music is shit.”

You clench your teeth and look at your ceiling. What the fuck?

He finally decides on a song, and suddenly your room is filled with Latino rhythms, he cranks volume up, and backs up to the centre of your room, where he decides to give you very bad show of dancing merengue. Or something similar but is bad enough, but his face is very serious while he moves and claps to the music.

One thing is sure, you are not getting off to that.

And he sees your unimpressed face, because he stops mid-dance.

“Not that? Yeah, I thought so.” He says and goes to change music. Next song is heavy on bass, beat penetrating your bloodstream.

This time his dancing is definitely not bad. He is moving effortlessly, punctuating changes in music with tight thrusts of his hips, and now you are getting interested. Your toes are already moving, your body ready to dance.

So when he motions for you to come, you do that in a heartbeat. Your bare feet hit the floor, your flimsy shorts riding lower on your hips, but you don’t feel out of place, when your body fits against his clad in jeans and pink collar shirt.

His hands find themselves on your hips, guiding them against his, and you follow the rhythm, immediately feeling as if you were in the club, not in your room, grinding against handsome stranger. Because he is a stranger, even though you somehow know his name.

You look up, curious, and you see him staring ahead, biting his lower lip, and he spins you around. His hand creeps under your top, splaying on your stomach, and you grab his neck, to keep your grounded as you grind back against him. His jaw pushes against your wrist and a second later he is scraping your skin, as he rolls his hips against your eyes. You let him lead you, never stopping as songs change. It’s steamy, and you can feel that you are breaking out in sweat, but you are not the only one. His shirt is already glued to his body like a second skin, and as you yank your hand higher and you drag it through his hair, they are damp at the roots.

You are not drunk, but your blood is buzzing, you are itching under your skin. You can tell that his pants are fuller then they were when you started dancing.

One more spin, and he brings you close, flush against his toned body, coiling into himself to kiss you, you are hot and you’ve been waiting for this, so you answer hungrily, sucking on his tongue as soon as it’s in your mouth. His hand kneads into your ass possessively, and you climb on your toes in your need to come as close as it’s possible.

He breaks the kiss with a moan, but he hovers there, his breath tickling your tingling mouth, lips moving as he fights for his breath, but doesn’t want to put any distance between you. You surge up to bite his jaw, and his hand slide down, closing on your ass cheek, fingers dipping between your legs. Your hips hitch and you keen in your throat, and you realize you don’t really hear music anymore, because of the sound of your blood flowing.

He pushes his leg between yours and you immediately grind down, the material of your shorts caught between your labia and his thigh, and the friction is rough, but very satisfying. On your own thigh (or rather hip) caught between his legs you can feel him – hot and heavy, and you look up at him, once more.

“Now it’s fun, right?” He muses, and he sways his hips, and you have to admit it’s fun. The fingers on your ass are so close to where you want them that it adds to your arousal, and the way his hips move makes you light-headed.

He kisses you again, but it’s a vicious assault on your lips than a kiss, there is more teeth than should be needed, but you relish it, finding the assault perfect, as you grind on his thigh, canting your hips to find best angle to push at your clit, and you are getting off rutting against his leg, fully clothed, wet all-over, and you can’t even fully grasp how hot that is, being reduced to your  most primal state.

And it’s not like he is any different, his face shiny from sweat, and chest heaving as he grinds against you.

You are leaking on his jeans, and your labia and clitoris are pulsing and tingling, but it’s not enough to get you over, and you whine into the kiss, and he pushes against you, still holding you and that the only reason you don’t stumble back. He pushes you against the wall, and with this new surface to lean on behind you, your hands snap to his fly and you pop it open, not caring enough to actually open it and push the fabrics out of the way, your hand just slides down his underwear, and you can feel his hand doing the same, finally dipping lower, teasing the skin between your labia and anus.

He seems to be telling you something, and you know you understood it correctly when as your fingers circle around his dick, first finger slides into you.

You grab the back of his neck, stabilizing yourself as you gyrate your hips on his thigh, and his fist hits the wall when you twist your hand on his shaft, fingers circling around the crown.

He is heavy and hot and wet in your hand, but you love it, especially when he groans and it somehow fits in the music, and you look sideways assessing his face, his eyes half-closed looking down your top, where your nipples are straining the fabrics, and somehow you love his stare so much.

It’s always hot to be wanted, even if just because of the body.

You use your hand on his nape to urge him to kiss you, and he does, with unmatched enthusiasm, abusing your lips and licking into your mouth, and you reward him with your thumb rubbing his tip, and suddenly there are two fingers inside you, reaching deep, short fingers scratching at the walls and the feeling is new and rough on the edges and you love it, and you love it when the fabrics of your shorts slides to the side (with Sehun’s help) and now it’s your clitoris against his jeans, and it’s harsh and punishing, but you love every slide.

Sehun’s teeth sink into your lower lip and you keen, your hips stuttering and your hand on his dick clenching and he groans in answer, and the beat is raising the little hairs on your body, and there is sweat on your cleavage and everything is so hot and perfect and steamy, and you don’t want it to end, and you close your eyes, overwhelmed.

You open them, because you are no longer standing, you open them, because you are horizontal and you see your ceiling.

That’s when you feel the bed dip.


	5. Baekhyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself for this and I am sorry, but I had to.

But no one is sitting on it. The dip comes from hands being placed on it. You sit up feeling how your top’s strap slides down your arm. There is a gasp, and you follow it to its source.

Next guy is kneeling on the floor, hands on the bed, looking at you quite earnestly. There is something dark in his eyes, and you know it’s not desire. It’s not that simple. But he is not moving an inch, and it already speaks volumes. You reach out, your hand touching his cheek, first with your fingertips only, then your with whole hand – your thumb just under his eye. His eyes flutter close, but you can feel that he is nearly vibrating, excitement flowing in his blood, barely contained by his skin.

“Baekhyun.” You whisper, there is no hesitation, you know it’s his name. The shiver that goes down his spine is visible. He opens his eyes to look at you once again, eyes already watery.

“Ma’am?” His voice is shaking, and you can hear an edge to it, as if his throat was dry. His need sends a shiver down _your_ spine. Your nostrils flare, and you are back – back to being on top of Jongdae, under Chanyeol, next to Sehun, your pent up arousal coming back to you – but this time it’s different. With that guys you were in their power, but now you are the one wielding reigns to your and _his_ pleasure.

You swipe your thumb across his lower lip, purposefully catching on his ring, pushing it into his delicate flesh. His chest heaves, fingers bending slightly and digging into your mattress.

“Remind me your safe word.” It could be a plea, but your voice sounds crisp in the air.

“Kokobop.” He says, his lips brushing your thumb, and the anticipation is oozing from him.

“I gather it will work.” You say, observing him intently, with his lips not really closed, because of your finger obstructing them. You don’t think, and just push it forward, feeling his teeth under your fingertip. “Since it’s supposed to disrupt the scene. Suck.”

You don’t know what made you do that, but he doesn’t hesitate, opening his mouth wider, letting your thumb slide deeper, tongue coming out to meet it and suddenly you feel pressure on it, wet and warm – and quite foreign. And quite arousing. Especially with him pinning you with his eyes.

You keep it up maybe for ten seconds, but by the end – your abdomen is pulsing, and so are your pelvic floor muscles.

“On the bed.” You order, and he obeys immediately – that’s another thing you find arousing.

You know how it works already – the moment you find yourself tipping over the edge it resets you, so this time you are going to enjoy it – you are going to bring Baekhyun over before anything happens, and take as much pleasure from it as you can.

He doesn’t move when you reach to his zipper. He inhales abruptly, but he freezes on the exhale – as if he did something wrong. Maybe he did. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to move at all. Was it your deal? You don’t know, but you can feel how tense are his thighs. You put your hand on his zipper, feeling his hardening penis from under the jeans, and when you snap your eyes to his face, you can see his anticipation ever so clearly.

So you push your hand down, putting pressure, that shouldn’t be all that pleasurable, but Baekhyun’s eyes flutter close for a barest second and then he snaps them open immediately.

It seems that in his deal he has to look at you all the time, and he shouldn’t move nor talk. You can understand it, because he seems like a type that never shuts up, but at the same time it wakes up the sadist in you. You want to see him fail.

Maybe so you can punish him for that.

You jerk him off roughly, with really no finesse, first with your hand down his pants, observing him quite lazily, relaxed – in spite of your own arousal, which seems to be spiking every time he slips. Those are barest things – fluttering nostrils, hitching breath, perspiration appearing on his forehead.

But you have to give it to him, he fights a good fight.

Even if losing one.

Then you pull him out of his pants, open zipper just under his balls, which your other hand goes to fondle.

And then you stop.

He breaks, his hips coming of the mattress, lips uttering unintelligible sound. You won, of course you won, and thrill runs through you, it’s quite intoxicating.

You tsk and you shake your head.

“Oh, Baekhyun…” You sigh, as if you were disappointed (even though you are certainly not – and he does know that). “And you were doing so good. What happened?”

There is a real concern in your voice, and you caress his face in this half loving, half perverse gesture.

“Ma’am.” He hoarses out, but it’s not enough. You know what you are waiting for. He is flushed, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet, and his lips are already chapped, and you didn’t even kiss him. It gives you a rush, little hairs on your body raising, and pleasant thrills going up and down your skull. “Ma’am…”

“Baekhyun, I’d love nothing more than help you, but I won’t know what you need unless you tell me.” You say with soft reprimand in your voice. It’s ridiculous. Guy is kneeling on your bed, with his hands closed into fists on his knees, his hard and leaking dick standing at attention, and you force him to say that he needs your touch.

“Ma’am, please… I – I need you…” You can tell that it gives him as much thrill as it gives you. “Please. _Please_.” His eyes are fixated on you, and he looks intoxicated.

You shush him, having heard what you wanted – but you don’t want him to talk too much. You fingers curl around his shaft and he chokes on air – but since it’s not really a sound you let it slide. Mostly because you are too aroused yourself and you don’t have enough patience left for shit like that.

He loses it for real when you go down to lick the stripe up his dick, you just couldn’t help yourself. Neither did he, and he comes quietly, eyes open, but it still throws you off, since most of his come lands on your face, rest mostly in your hand.

And you don’t like it.

You straighten, and look at him sternly, his breath hitching once again when he sees you.

“Did I say you _can_ come?” You ask, and _god_ s, he loves it. He is so easy to please, spent, but still alert, and he enjoys your tone and this overused phrase. “Shirt.”

He immediately takes it off and hands it over so you can use it as a towel. And you do, cleaning your face, but your hand…

You throw his stained shirt away, and point him to the floor. He slides down without a complaint, soft dick still out of his trousers. You present him your hand, and he doesn’t hesitate, tongue darting out of his mouth as soon as his face is close enough.

You observe him, as he cleans your hand up from his own come, using his tongue and lips, and you try to be indifferent and composed, as your head is spinning from arousal. It hot and getting to your head and you love every second of it, the thought of power and such _obedience._

He doesn’t stop even when your hand is clean (relatively – now it is wet from his saliva, but that you can live with), so you catch his tongue with your fingers.

“Don’t you think that there is a better use for that tongue of yours?” You ask knuckle brushing against his lip ring. He is thrilled, you can see that. His hands go up to grab your hips, but you tsk at him, and they immediately hide behind his back. You spread your legs, not bothering to take off your pajama shorts (you’ve been dominating him in your pajamas – how unreal is that), just dragging them slightly to the side, and that’s all Baekhyun needs.

Immediately you can feel the smooth ring on your labias, pushing between them, and you exhale slowly, only to inhale abruptly when his tongue dips into you.

The way he goes down on you is ferocious, he could be compared to starved man. He is licking deep into you, his ring catching on your soft tissues and you love it. The little bit of pain seems to be pushing you to the edge faster than you’d like.

But you can’t tell him stop.

You just can’t.

You tip backwards, landing on your back, straining your neck to still see him working between your legs. But you can’t see his skillful tongue nor you can see his saliva mixing with your slick, but it’s hot and amazing, and your whole body is pulsing and if you could you’d wonder whether his constant talking is behind his tongue being so dexterous.

He drags himself up, tongue pushing roughly at your clitoris, and you swear quietly under your breath, and your fingers yank at Baekhyun’s hair, and you want to order him to stop, but you can’t because it’s so amazing, and the pleasure at that little bit of delicious pain, makes you raise your hips, and you are just at the doors, and you tense your muscles…

…and that’s when you feel the bed dip.


	6. Lay

You immediately close your eyes, to calm yourself down, and clear your mind – you don’t want to be hooked up on Baekhyun (or any other previous boy), when there is new challenge in front of you.

Your senses correct you – new challenge is next to you, laying on the bed with you. As usual your pajama is back on, and body next to you moves and there are soft lips on yours. Once again your senses correct you – skin might be soft, but lips itself are quite firm, nice to kiss. And he knows how to kiss, how to tease your mouth with his teeth, and you purr into the kiss, eyes still closed. But you can feel how he smiles against your skin.

Foreign hand creeps under your top, and it immediately goes for your breast. It’s your time to smile into the kiss – so it’s how it’s going to go. This guy goes into lazy making out, and you are all for that.

Lazy making out means it’s going to last longer. So you focus on kissing him, teeth scraping his lower lip, or sucking it into your mouth, as his dexterous fingers play around with your breasts, teasing nipples and caressing skin breaking out in goosebumps.

It could be considered juvenile if it isn’t just comfortable. It is lazy and slow enough for you  breathe through your nose. But as the hand on your chest grows more brave and _demanding_ , you find yourself thinking it’s not enough.

He sinks teeth into your lower lip in a sudden outburst, and you yelp – but it’s more because you are in the move – he flips you over, and you finally open your eyes, your hands catching on his shoulders.

You are laying on Yixing and he is smiling at you, or at least one half of his lips is, and you are minutely captivated by the dimple in his cheek, but then his hands are on your face and he drags you closer and his tongue flicks against indentation his teeth left in your lip, and your tongue just chases his.

You don’t get to catch it, because Yixing _spanks_ you.

You didn’t see it coming, even though you should have. You are laying on top of him, legs falling on both sides of his legs, pubic mound on his lower abdomen, so you should have seen his arm moving, or something, but he caught you by surprise, and you show it, inhaling abruptly tightening your lower body muscles.

That was _hot_.

You catch an appreciating spark in Yixing’s eyes and you kiss him, feeling has his hand kneads into your ass through your pajama pants. This kiss is more urgent, and it’s yours doing. You can already feel your hips gyrating into his stomach. But Yixing still fights to kiss you slowly, thoroughly, trying to calm you down with the kiss, when you are the one who doesn’t want to.

Suddenly you want it all, now, in this exact moment. You want his skin on yours, you want his weight on you, you want to feel his warmth, and you want his dick inside you. Now.

Your hands travel down along his body and you try to yank his shirt up, but your own body obstructs you. You whine into the kiss, squirming on top of him.

This time you know a second before he spanks you. You know because his hand stops massaging your butt. He hits you swiftly, and you whimper into his lips, feeling warmth spreading from impact point.

He starts nipping at your jaw, teeth gently rolling skin between teeth, and you mewl, hips rolling and feet flexing. He moves down and attaches himself to the column of your neck, and he is sucking, he is sucking a bruise into your neck, and you are being marked.

You have literally nothing against it, exhaling shakily, one arm sliding under his shirt, fingers splaying on his bare skin, rows of muscles defined enough for you to feel them. You can feel the rhythmic pulsing of his stomach, and faint hairs leading down from his navel, and it drives you a little more crazy.

Hand from your ass slides onto your lower back, slightly rolling up fabrics of your top. He noses skin of your neck, just under your jaw, and you move to kiss him. He allows you to do that, smiling broadly into the kiss. It feels like you are being played in his hands, but ain’t nothing wrong with that, right?

His other hand cups your face, thumb caressing your cheek, and it’s sweet, and you could be melting if it wasn’t for the other hand that keeps inching down, keeping you on the edge, wanting, anticipating.

Curious fingers slide into your pants, hand mapping up your buttock. Your answer is to delicately scratch his abdomen. Again he kneads your ass, and you buck into his hand, whining, feeling sufficiently wet for him.

He shushes you, sound barely audible, as his hand slides down, teasing finger nestling between your buttocks, inching forward, to barely skid over your labias.

You shiver. It’s such a sensual, voluptuous touch, just nearly where you want it, but not quite. You exhale heavily and you open your eyes, which you closed in anticipation. It turns out, Yixing is staring at you, with such concentration, with such ferocity, that shudder goes down your spine, color appearing on your cheeks.

As soon as your eyes lock with his, he winks at you, and his finger pushes against your labia, fitting between them, nestling itself in your warmth and moist. You squeeze your legs against his body, rolling your hips.

It’s like he loses his will to tease you, because that one finger starts to rub skin between urethral opening and vaginal opening, smearing your slick all over your labia, dipping ever so slightly into your vagina.

When that finger reaches far and slides over your clitoris, you moan for the first time, sliding down along his body. Your body is wet under your clothes, without even mentioning what is happening between your legs.

But you are not going to go out like this. You fix yourself, pushing your weight on your knees, and his hand is following you, relentlessly rubbing you, not once yet penetrating. Your hand that was splayed on his stomach (and that left little half-moons of your fingernails on his skin), slides down, finally following the trail of little coarse hairs down to his pants. Button, zipper, and you can hear Yixing exhaling as you take him out of his pants. It’s uncomfortable, when your hand fists around his shaft, but it’s not going to deter you – not when at first pump, his finger reaches into you.

You search Yixing’s face – his eyes are hooded, but he winks at you quite playfully, and it’s perfect, and he is perfect and you need to kiss him, so you do, your hips working themselves on his finger. You try jerking him off at the same time, but the angle is wrong, and it’s just not working, so you grab his neck with your other hand and you fall to the side, bringing him with you.

His hum is the only approval you need.

Second finger joins the first one inside you and they both press against your front wall, and your free hand comes down to hold his hand where you want it, as your hips press forward.

As you do that your other hand pumps his dick, alternating with twisting your fist around his shaft. You are getting all warm and dizzy, but in the back of your mind you know that something is not right, that it’s still not working.

You don’t know where you get the idea from, but once more you search Yixing’s eyes, and he is still watching you. You get the feeling that he wants to see the moment you’ll be gone. You let go off his dick, and bring the hand up, you lick it, Yixing following you with rapt attention. Before you know it, he cups your face and brings you into completely-out-of-control-kiss, as you fit your spit covered hand around his cock.

And now, it works.

It’s hard to know what you are doing, while kissing him, with three digits inside you, and hand circling around his head, gathering his precome only to spread it all over his cock, to make the slide easier, and faster, and more _sinful_.

He is biting at your tongue, at your lips, one finger escapes your body to rub labia, skin between vaginal opening and clitoris, or even clitoris, and you are twisting your hand, and it’s hot, and juvenile, and arousing, and hot and wet, and you love every fucking second of it, and Yixing sucks at your tongue, and you buck into him, fingers holding down his hand sinking into his flesh, and you bring your leg up, resting it on his side, and you try to fit yourself as close as possible to him, and your body is pulsing and shaking, and you try not to lose your grip on him, and he is teasing your clitoris, and you are so close, and you know that’s it, and you can feel it…

…and that’s when you feel the bed dip.


	7. D.O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wandered deeper than I expected.  
> Check out updated tags for warnings.

“On your knees.”

You are disoriented, even though you expect to find yourself sitting on the bed, in your pajama, with new one next to you.

That you expected, but not the order being barked at you the moment you _go back_. You look for the source of the sound, you _need_ to see the next, one although the anxiousness starts to pill up in your chest.

There he is, not the tallest one in the bunch, not the most athletic, not with the strongest presence, but as you assess his raised eyebrows and plump lips falling open with a disappointed sigh, you realize – it does mean anything.

You are on your knees before he finishes his exhale. Just where you’ve been sitting, you fall forward, the fastest way possible to you, and you are sideways to him, and you can see how he eases his forefinger into the knot of his tie, and you wonder how comes that he is dressed up, when all the previous ones where dressed up.

“That’s more like it.”

It’s a comment, that usually would fill your chest with rage. Or at least with annoyance, but there is this pleasant feeling spreading through your blood stream, and you realize with a jolt that not only you enjoy your position, but also you trust this innocently looking man.

Even though you unconsciously know that he is not innocent in any way.

There is a hand on your neck, brushing your hair to the other side, and sliding onto your jaw, cupping your cheek. It’s tender and possessive, and you want nothing more than to be possessed. You crane your neck, just a little, afraid that being too pushy would result in this touch being taken away from you, and you managed to look at his face, and those heart-shaped lips form an indulgent smile.

“Worry not, I will take care of you.”

 _Yes, please_.

You throat is too tight and mouth too dry for you to even attempt an answer, but you are sure that he can read your pleading eyes, just like he _always_ did. You _trust_ him to take care of you. There is a safeword in the back of your mind, along with his _name_ , but sure as hell you are not going to need it.

Hand slides onto your back, and down the clothed valley of your spine, till it reaches your ass, and it takes all your strength not to flex under it, not to push into it. Hairs on your body are already rising, and you can smell his cologne in the air, with heady musk underneath, it’s heavy on your senses.

Hand slides under your pajama shorts, skin on skin, and you clench your muscles in anticipation, but hand just goes down, sliding your shorts down your legs.

Suddenly you wonder whether Baekhyun felt like that.

Is it how it feels?

You pay for this moment of distraction with a blazing hot pain spreading through your limbs from its epicenter on your left buttock. Before you can recover, before the shocks reach the tips of your fingers, there is a swift strike on your right buttock, and that’s not the impact you expected. The colliding surface is more compact, focusing all the pain in one spot, not evening it out, and you keen, head hanging. You try to blink tears away from your eyes, pain freezing, but _oh, so, exhilarating._

Another strike, and you yelp, having expected that weird, blazing hot pleasure, but still not expecting the sting.

It’s not a hand, you remember being spanked earlier that night, was it Chanyeol? But the feel was different.

“Do you like it?” It’s as if he was reading your mind, and the curiosity gets better of you, and you look around, over your shoulder, and you can’t form a coherent thought, whimper falling from your mouth when you see a riding crop.

Your body is pulsing, skin prickling where you’ve been hit, and he sees you looking, his eyebrows rising. His fingers look gorgeous on the marginally flared handle, and you whimper again, head dropping back down. You can hear your blood flowing in your ears, and it’s a surprising thing, because you’d thought that all your blood gathered between your legs.

You unconsciously try to tell when the crop is fall again, you try to listen for its sound in the air, but while at it, you become more conscious of your body, knees already trembling, kept together by your shorts. Your top sticking to your skin, your sweat slowly trailing down your arm, along your elbows locked in place, your short nails sinking into the sheets.

 _Strike_. You push forward, even though the force it’s not enough to justify it, it’s an unconscious reaction, and you can’t help it, but you _love_ it.

A second later, the leather tongue of the crop lands on your skin, delicately, caressing your ass with it’s rough fabrics. He brings it up, sliding it up your spine, gathering your top along the way, undressing you like that, but just as you think that your breasts will be exposed, he trails back, and you shiver.

This soft touch as in juxtapose to your tingling skin, and you sway your hips unconsciously.

 _Strike_. It’s swift, it’s relentless, and you tense, just to relax when the sudden pain passes. Your hair is tickling your skin, and it irritates you, you’d love to brush it away, but you can’t move.

The leather tongue is tapping at your abused skin.

“Marvelous.” It’s whispered, but you hear it, and you realize that he is staring at you, and you can feel the blush spreading up your neck – but you want him to look. He _has_ to look.

There is a hand on your left buttock, kneading roughly, and it sends shivers up your spine. Second later the buttock is pulled, revealing your anus, and there is a cool air and crop’s tongue slides down your crack.

You suck in your belly, anticipation making you dizzy. Arousal making you dizzy. Sheets are rolled uncomfortably under your knees, and your toes are slipping, feet wet with perspiration.

Leather tongue trails down, uneven surface pulling your sensitive skin delicately. At this moment you are producing tons of fluids, and you are sure that it spreads on the leather.

He taps your labias playfully: once, twice, thrice, and you whimper, sensation weird, but welcomed.

 _Strike_. It’s not as hard as previous ones. Not even close, but the target is different and you keen,  going into full-body tremble, your labias are hot and it _stings_ , but you have to do your utmost not to arch your back, and ask for more.

Who would have thought?

“Marvelous.” He repeats himself, and it talks volumes about his own state. That and his breathless voice, but you are not going to complain or hold it against him.

One more _strike_ , even lighter than the last, as if he was getting impatient, and it’s refreshing. If anything can be refreshing when your vaginal muscles, are twitching, your arms are shaking, and your tears are mixing with your drool on the sheets beneath you.

“You dirty…” He doesn’t finish, allowing the crop speak for him, connecting harshly with the skin of your ass. A strained whine clears your throat, and you immediately push back, asking for more. A moment earlier the same thing made you escape, but you are long after that point.

There is a broken whisper behind you, and hearing him break, but not seeing it, is hot.

Your labias are parted, and something slides into you, finally, and you rock on it.

Again.

It’s not a finger.

It’s long and slender, and unyielding, and hard, and _not enough_. It reaches deep into you, and swirls, and you know what is it. And it makes you hot, and horny, _so impossibly horny._

He is slowly penetrating you with a handle of his riding crop.

It’s foreign, not stimulating enough, but reaching deep, deeper than he normally would, and that unusual combination seems to be working miracles. You try to fuck yourself on it, hearing muffled groan from behind you. You are so desperate at this point that you do your best to work your muscles around the thing, as to get as much as possible from not enough girth. You are helpless, shaking wreck, with skin red and pulsing, and he works the crop, swirling it and fucking you with it the best he can.

“Jesus.” It’s broken prayer, you’d like to repeat after him, but you are unable to. “I need to feel you.”

It gives your clouded mind such a thrill that you moan at his words. And you moan again, when slender finger slides into you along the rod, and suddenly there is something heavier at your entrance, stimulating it, and you don’t get to moan again, because everything is going white…

… and you feel your bed dip.


	8. Kai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags with warning for this part: it contains drug use and drug-induced sex, and elements of praise kink.

You know the drill by now, and you are hyper alert, when you come back to yourself – you know that you are wearing your pajama, and Kyungsoo is long gone. It’s amazing how you’ve never used his name while with him, you never even thought about it – but it doesn’t matter anymore, next boy is sitting at the edge of the bed.

From what you can see he is taking his shoes off, and while you appreciate it, you don’t want to be wasting time – the itch under your skin is unbearable, even though you don’t recon you’ll manage to get rid of it, you can definitely try to scratch it.

You get on your knees and scoot over to flop back on the bed, right behind Jongin. He hums something, and you let your legs rest on both sides of his hips, feet dangling from the bed, as he bends down to take the other shoe off, and when he straightens, you grab his collar and you yank him back, and while he chokes a little (as you can guess from his sudden cough) you bite the protruding bone on the back of his neck.

He purrs, and pats your shin.

“I’ve missed you too.” He says, and that’s surreal, because you know that you are seeing him for the first time in your life, and yet your mind seems to be recognizing the sentiment. Golden skin is hot, but soft under your lips and you enjoy dragging them up, until your nose is buried in Jongin’s hair and you can feel the short hairs on your mouth. Jongin hums something absentmindedly, his hand on your ankle, long fingers splayed on your foot. You can feel the short nail tapping your skin, and you raise your head.

Jongin senses the movement, and he cranes his neck, so he can look at you.

“Wanna take it to the next level?” He asks, voice husky, and well, you certainly want to. It must have shown on your face, because Jongin is smiling, that _smile_ , the one that looks so hot and so good on his face, and he raises his hand up, and he places a small pill between his lips.

There is a heartbeat in which you consider it, the pill and what it entails, but you judgment is already impaired, and you rush forward, your lips fitting with his, and he pushes the pill into your mouth with his tongue. Up close you realize he is already high, that’s why his skin was so hot, that’s why his eyes are blown, that’s why his voice was husky.

He wasn’t yet high on arousal, he was definitely high on drugs.

You can hear your blood pumping in your ears, when you swallow the pill, and Jongin is enough of an asshole to actually swipe his tongue across your mouth to check whether you really did. The knowledge that you did makes him go wild a little bit, his hand splaying on your neck, thumb on the throat, and he pushes you back on the bed, teeth scraping your jaw.

You land with a thump, suddenly lifeless, as those golden dexterous fingers roll up your pajama top. You don’t move to allow him to take it off, but Jongin seems content to have it rolled up under your armpits, as he bites your side, hands on your hips. You are looking at the ceiling, with mouth half open, as heart is your chest is beating madly, as you wait for the drug to take effect.

Jongin is clearly out of it, as he snuggles his face into your abdomen, nose pushing into the soft tissue, nails scraping at your sides. You are breathing slowly, allowing him to cherish your torso. Suddenly Jongin moans, his tongue leaving hot and wet trail down the middle of your abdominal muscles, while his hands twitch at your rips. You don’t know how long he does that: how long he laps your belly, sometimes biting you, skin being pulled back between his teeth.

He doesn’t really move away from your navel, hands holding you down, or maybe anchoring him, totally indifferent to your exposed breasts, now covered in goose bumps. But you are not complaining, because you are still waiting.

The skin on your head is tingling slightly, and it’s not unpleasant. Suddenly Jongin stills, his hot breath fanning the skin just above your navel, and you look down, to see what made him stop. He is frozen in one spot, impossibly dark eyes, red-rimmed, seem to be locking your own eyes down, and you can’t look away from him. His nails slowly sink into your skin, and the sensation is oddly sensual, numerous pinpricks of pain mixed with pleasure flooding your nervous system, and your eyes flutter closed with a low sound leaving your throat.

Immediately Jongin climbs up, his body barely above yours, more touching than not, and his fingers are all over your face, as he tries to communicate with you. He tries to brush hair off your face, he tries to lift your head, and when you open your eyes, he is just in front of you, so close that you eyes cross when you try to look at him.

“Is it working? Is it? Now?” He urges, and you realize that his body is shaking. You raise your hand to his cheek, realizing how hot his skin is, and it hits you, that it’s even hotter now, that your body temperature is raising. His eyes are quite wild, he clearly can’t focus. You kiss him, mouth hot, but soon you realize it’s no use – kissing needs more coordination than the two of you can now muster.

Jongin is rutting into your leg, and through your clouded mind it comes to you how horny he is. How horny you are. You moan, pushing your hips up, and he echoes your moan, his lips latching themselves to your shoulder.

You need skin. You need to see his skin, you need to touch it, you need to see your fingers splayed on that exquisite gold expanse of his torso, or back, or thighs, or ass, doesn’t matter you have to feel it, _now_.

You grab his collar shirt, and you yank at it, too desperate to care about undoing it, but it doesn’t want to work with you. Jongin is also very unhelpful, now that his hands have finally found your breasts, and he is still kissing your neck, while his thumbs roll your nipples.

It’s not the most subtle thing, but you love it, and you are hot, and wet, and you decide that the shirt can stay on, it’s enough to roll it up. Jongin’s hiss is loud and clear, and _breathy_ when your nails scratch ten lines up his back. The skin is just like you’ve imagined it, hot and soft, and surreal. Your hips buck, and Jongin answers rolling his hips down, and both of you try to grind and rut against each other.

You moan and grunt with every better angled roll, because although your coordination is lacking, you don’t seem to need _much_. Your top is drenched in sweat, but you don’t have the right mind to take it, off, the same with your pants. If anything Jongin seems to be even more gone, his approval hitting high notes.

Your skin seems to be burning, and it’s definitely too hot in the room, but you can’t bring yourself to bother, as you grab his neck, more to find leverage than to keep him down, and you bring your hips up, just when he pushes down, and you keen, _high_.

God, you are _high_. On your arousal, which smell is so thick that you can’t even fathom fighting with it, on Jongin’s arousal, which is just as potent as yours, and focused on _you_ , seldom one can find a better aphrodisiac, on his body, golden skin, firm muscles and lean body.

And you are high on ecstasy.  

Jongin tries to kiss you, and although you are totally game, it’s hard to keep it going. It turns more into moaning and breathing into each other mouths, while both of you try to get the most out of your uncoordinated rutting. Sometimes you or Jongin manage to sink your teeth into the other one’s lip, which is welcomed with a his or a moan or a whine.

Jongin is sweated over, hair matted to his forehead, and his stare is mad, and his skin is slippery and burning, and you love how he grunts with every push down, and your whole body is pulsing – and you know exactly where it’s the epicenter of the shocks of pleasure surging through your veins.

“Is it good? Is it good? Tell me how good it is. God, you are amazing.” Jongin is babbling away, once again pushing his fingers into your skin, kneading the tissue of your breasts or bruising the ribs, touch urging and pleading.

You throw your head back, and his teeth scrape your jugular, breathe hot and heavy.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, and you grab it, it’s nowhere near gentle. He keens and rolls his hips down, and it pushes denim against your cotton pants, and it drags against your labia and your clitoris and you love it, and you try to voice it, but even though your lips open, no sound goes out.

Something shifts in your perception, you have no idea what’s that, but suddenly the pleasure washing through you seems to double, and you groan, loud, unabashedly, and now you are hyper aware of how his forefingers are digging into your skin deeper than other fingers, how the nails of his thumbs are uneven – probably from biting, how the drop of your own sweat is sliding down your neck, how damp sheets are under your body – all those little details are making the bigger picture so much clearer, so much more amazing.

“Tell me, tell me it’s good. Tell me that’s good. Tell me that you love it.” Jongin is pleading, as he goes down, down rutting into your thigh, as his hands grab your rolled up shirt and he pushes it back up, teeth slightly closing on your nipple.

You moan, hips buckling.

“You are so good.” You rasp out, and swallow, feeling how it hurts your throat, but even that seems to be riling Jongin up, his fingers teasing the swell of your breasts as if that was your reward. “You are so, _so_ good. Jongin, god, you are amazing.”

He is wild, but there is purpose to his actions, and you realize that the more you talk the more he does – and that his hand is trailing down.

You yank his hair and he hisses, teeth closing more on your nipple, and you echo him.

“Jongin!” You call out, breathless, hot and messy, and so, _so_ aroused. “You are so good for me, you are just amazing, my _god_ , you are just perfect, oh my _god_ , you are…”

You are repeating yourself, but it doesn’t matter, Jongin is rutting into your leg, wild, and his tongue is lapping your nipple and areola, and his hand is sliding up your thigh into the sleeve of your pants, and you are choking on your need, and your fingers dig into his nape and into his scalp, and you yank his hair, as you repeat your mantra, mindless of your abused throat.

Suddenly he goes rigid, shaky groan escaping his plump, swollen lips, and you can feel hot and wet substance on your leg, and you echo his groan, your eyes closing, and he bites on your nipple, and you choke on your groan…

… and you feel your bed dip.


	9. Xiumin

Your pajama is back on, and once again you are on your back. You exhale because this whole thing is getting ridiculous. Are you ever going to get off?

It takes you a while before you realize that, although there is nothing happening, someone is laying beside you. You turn your head, and you recognize Minseok – even though you are sure it’s your first time seeing him. He seems at peace, his hands on his stomach, as he looks at your ceiling.

“Are you going to do something?” You ask, a little weirded out by how different it seems to be going. Minseok lazily glances at you.

“I could.” He says, stretching on the bed. “But I wonder how long it will take you to get irritated and do something yourself?”

You laugh quite incredulously because that sounds just bitchy. However, there is something playful in that phrase, and it him, that doesn’t allow you to take offence. On the contrary, it spikes your interest.

“Well, then so be it.” You say, and you roll over, climbing on top of Minseok. He smiles, looking to the side, but one of his hands move to push your hips a bit higher. Then the same hand yanks your pajama shorts up – now he can knead his fingers into your ass, without taking off the shorts.

But even as he kneads your ass, he isn’t focusing on you – looking to the side, and fumbling with your drawer. You don’t like it, you want him to focus _only_ on you. So you grab his head and you forcibly turn it, and you kiss him. You moan into his mouth at the first sign of him answering to you. You’ve been with 7 guys and you still haven’t come – you are going to do everything in your power to make _him_ bring you over.

Because you’ll be allowed to climax, right?

Minseok kisses you lazily, and it’s clear that he is still distracted. You are afraid to open your eyes because you don’t want to see him looking to the side, so you just moan again, playing it just for him, rolling your hips down as if you couldn’t help yourself. His hand on your ass keeps you down, your body pressing against his crotch, and he pushes up. But his kiss is still quite sloppy.

“I knew it!” He exclaims triumphantly, breaking the kiss. You are _so close_ to taking offence in how disregarding he is off your needs, but you decide to give him one last chance, and you look to the side where his eyes are focused on something.

Your bedside drawer is open, and Minseok is holding your purple vibrator. It looks quite surreal in his _manly_ hand, especially because of its second arm which is clitoris massager.

“I knew you’d keep something like that at _hand_.” Teases Minseok, and it’s both playful and sultry, and it goes to your crotch. “You _dirty girl_.”

Now, that goes _directly_ to your crotch, your arousal spiking. The smile you get from him is lewd, and it does wonders for your libido. And so is his body – when he rolls you over, pinning you down with his weight, hips fitting between your open legs.

He briefly kisses you, teeth scraping your lower lip, and then he settles back, once again focusing on the vibrator. He turns it on, and you both look at it how it comes to life, buzzing quietly.

“Look at it go!” Marvels Minseok and you are somewhere between aroused and amused. He presses a button changing the gear, and when he gets hang of it, he flips over the modes. “Damn, that thing is versatile! I bet you’d love me to use that on you.”

It’s a sentence thrown quite casually considering the fact he is pinning you down on your bed with a vibrating toy in his hand, but that and the idea behind his words makes you lightheaded. You are nearly sure that he can feel how wet you are because your shorts must be getting soaked as you speak.

“Yeah…” You wheeze out. “I’d like that. I think.”

Minseok throws the toy on the bed, and it vibrates pulsing on the duvet. The man finally focuses on you, tipping your head up and to the side, so he can slide his lips down your jaw.

“And do you think you’d beg for it?” He asks quietly, voice rumbling when he reaches your ear. A full body shiver goes down your frame, and _hell_ , if he wants you to beg, you certainly will. He kisses your neck, but there is stillness about him that tells you that he wants you to answer out loud.

You wet your lips.

“Please.” The sound is pushed through your dry and constricted throat. It seems to be the right answer, because Minseok is immediately pushing back, grabbing a hem of your shorts and pulling them down till they clear your feet.

Minseok spreads your legs with his arm and his knee because his other hand is busy trying to blindly find the toy on the bed. He kisses your thigh and you whine because that’s hot, but also because you don’t want foreplay. Not now. Not after 7 other guys.

He first presses flared head to your clitoris. It’s the barest touch, gone as soon as it appears, but it’s enough to make your muscles tense. It’s a disarming jolt of pleasure, and you wish for more.

Minseok is looking at your face intently when you look down, and his shining eyes seem to be speaking volumes.

“Please.” You whisper again, your hand coming up to grab his neck. Your reward is toy pressed against your labia. It’s nice, tingling sensation spreading through your body, but it’s definitely not enough. The friction is too weak. “Please, more.”

He groans, toy finally pushing into you, and Minseok’s eyes drop – he is not looking at your face anymore, focusing on the toy disappearing inside you. Your head drops to the bed, because you don’t have to keep it up anymore, and you focus on how amazing it _feels_.

Minseok is kissing your stomach and your navel and your sides while he keeps thrusting the vibrating toy shallowly in and out. The pressure is mostly on your entrance, but the added vibrations are making the whole thing worthwhile.

You are getting hot really quickly, especially with all the attention that is being paid to your lower body. You thoroughly enjoy his fingers on your thigh and its bruising hold. Your body starts cramping, but the cramps are few and far between. Yet.

But you know that it will change the moment the massager part finds your clitoris.

Which doesn’t come. Your body is wet, your chest heaving, but the stimulation is still not really enough, not really as thorough as you’d like it.

So you gather your strength and you look up – you immediately moan, fighting with yourself not to allow your body to let your head down. Minseok is looking at you, stare heavy and hot, but you can also see how his body moves. There is something powerful in the way his eyes keep your own steady, even when he is clearly rubbing himself off your mattress. Half of it is probably desperation – you both want to get off. But the other thing wakes something primal at you, something you can’t even describe.

“Say ‘please’ again.” His voice is so much lower than it was when you began. He _begs_ you to beg. And that nearly sends you over.

You wet your lips, feeling how dry they are, how rough they have become, and you swallow trying to soothe your throat.

“Please.” You try, your voice not sounding your own. It sounds broken, and Minseok’s echoing moan tells you how much he likes it. “ _Please_.” _Do something._

For the first time, he pushes the toy all in. Its second arm pushes against your clitoris and you mewl, as your hips come off the mattress, and Minseok has to hold you down. You want to beg, you want to shout, you are ready to do anything – all to keep him from removing the toy. Your hand from his neck moves down, and your fingers clench around his wrist, and you push his hand even further. Your other hand balls into a fist on the sheets, and you groan and moan, your strung out body crashing on the bed. He seems to be echoing you, his moans quieter, but more guttural, more rumbling – and those sounds bathe you.

It’s perfect: the pressure, the vibrations, his fingers on your thigh, his lips on your abdomen, your body wet and strung out, and you can nearly taste it…

…and that’s when you feel your bed dip.


	10. Suho

Jewellery adorning you is exquisite. Delicate, intricate, subtle, yet sturdy. Silver chains begin on your palms, secured by rings on your middle fingers. They met on your wrists, tangling and crossing, forming web-like design on your forearms. They are cold as if refusing to be warmed up by your hot skin, and they chime with your slightest movement.

You rarely wear them. It’s not you day-to-day jewellery. It’s too luxurious, it’s too weird and exotic in a sense. Nor it’s a jewellery you can easily buy. You know it was custom-made, with your initials engraved in those plain rings, and it was presented to you only to be used on certain occasions.

Like this one.

Sheets under your body are wet and have you had a mind to really ponder on that, you’d wonder how it came here. And why you still didn’t come. But the bed on which you are laying is yours. The top is the same, those pyjama bottoms have been repeatedly taken off you – but as much as you find the jewellery and its weight familiar, you know for a fact that it’s your first time seeing it, experiencing it.

Which means you are back in the world, where unknown yet familiar man is going to rock your world. Your heart starts beating faster once more, having calmed down after Minseok disappeared. You try to sit up, when you realize that jewellery has one more use – it’s biding you to your bed. You curiously try it, yanking and that delicate chains painfully dig into your skin. You feel that if you really wanted you could break it.

Not that you want to. The idea that you can get away, but he wants you not to sends a shiver through your body. You trash on the bed, legs crossing, because yes, you are very much aroused. Your eyes search your room because you want to find him.

He is sitting in your chair. The chair on which you sat when your friend was berating your sex life. When he notices you looking, he relaxes into it, opening his jacket. It’s surreal to see a man wearing a suit here.

“I was just deciding how am I going to fuck you.” He says conversationally.

You won’t lie, you whimper. There is something raw about his words, and it answers to your primal needs. You want him to fuck you, you want him to take you and desecrate you, and it comes through as a physical pain. His eyes are sliding down your body, and you lick your suddenly dry lips.

“Yeah?” You prompt, because he falls silent, showing no inclination to move.

“Yes. It’s surprisingly hard, you understand. I know the baselines – I want you to scream my name when I pound you into that cheap mattress of yours, but the details? I have yet to figure it out.”

You can nearly feel him pounding into you. Junmyeon’s voice is so arousing.

“I… You can always… Take me through the details so we can choose.”

“Would you be a dear and help me like that?” He asks, straightening his tie, and you have to close your eyes before you nod. “I was thinking about letting you come here. That you could ride me naked, while I was still wearing this suit. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Fucking yourself on my cock, staining my pants while you singing praises?”

Of course, you would. You can nearly feel the fabrics of the suit under your fingers, Junmyeon’s hot skin and short prickly hair on the back of his neck. You can nearly feel the zipper digging into the soft skin of your thighs. You want that. You want that so much.

“Or maybe I would make you work for your pleasure. I know you’d love to show your worth. That you’d kneel between my legs, with your arms still bound together, preferably behind your back. You’d use your mouth and your tongue to get me nice and wet, and you’d let me fuck your throat, wouldn’t you?”

You moan something unintelligible, having no problem with imagining the weight of his dick on your tongue and warmth of his fingers in your hair. Yes, you want that as well. You trash on the bed once more, body unfurling, knees coming together as you stretch your legs. You are wet, you can feel how it slowly seeps out of you.

“I see you’d really like that. Would you moan around my dick to show you much you want it?”

There is a pause that tells you that this time Junmyeon is waiting for you to answer.

“Yeah.” You confirm, throat constricted, and you focus your watery eyes on him. Junmyeon smiles indulgingly.

“I can see how much you want my cock. And I really want to give you a taste, but…” His hesitation nearly breaks you. Why won’t he do it? Why won’t he let you suck him off, why won’t he let you ride him? ”As much as I want to hear you gag around me, as much as I want this room filled with lewd sounds of you sucking me to completion, and as much as I want you to impale yourself on my dick, as much as I want to slide my hand onto your ass, between your cheeks and lower so I can dip one of my fingers into you as you bounce on my dick and feel how hot and wet you are for me…” You whine. It’s a heartfelt, broken sound, but you need it so much. You yank your arms and the pain of chains sinking into your skin is sending your nerves on fire. You arch your back off the mattress, legs sliding together because you just need someone between them.

Suddenly you feel the bed dip which makes a small part of your brain wonder if what you felt while ending with Minseok was Junmyeon standing up from the bed. But it’s irrelevant now, that Jumnyeon rests one of his knees on the bed. He loosens the knot of his tie and you whimper again.

“I want all of that, but I think I want to keep you on this bed. On my mercy. I want to you losing yourself, fidgeting on this bed as I pound into you, balls deep. I want to have to hold you down, because you’d keep fucking yourself down, nearly shaking in your effort to get yourself off. You know you are gagging for that, you are gagging for me and my cock.” You can only observe him as he takes off the tie and jacket. He makes a show of it, and he never stops talking bathing you in his fantasy, which you hope you are going to experience soon. “By the end of this night you are going to scream my name, and after that, I am going to take your breath away. I am going to take you apart, and by the time I’m done your throat is going to be so abused that you won’t be able to scream anymore.”

You shouldn’t be disturbed by just his words, but here you are – shaking in need to feel it. You want to feel his warmth and weight on top of you, fucking into you, continuing his monologue as you slowly lose both yourself and your voice.

He is naked. He is finally naked and he is more than ready to fulfil all of his promises. Once again he sees you staring and he strokes himself, smiling at you lewdly.

“Tell me, do you like the chains?” He asks suddenly, and you swallow, instinctively yanking your hands.

“Yeah.” You answer, throat constricted. Is third a charm?

“Good. I picked it especially for you. And I got myself matching jewellery.” He says, and it seems like such an unnecessary information, but something in his inflexion makes you focus on him. Junmyeon is showing you silver piece. A ring. Your pelvic floor muscles cramp. It’s quite a sizeable item and you know what is going to happen, but watching Junmyeon fit the ring at the base of his dick makes you whimper for the third time.

Let be it a charm.

He strokes himself again and you watch how his fingers slide along the veins, skin pinkish-red, but the shine of metal is what keeps you on the edge. You heard stories. Everybody hears stories and you are eager to find out how truly magical is the world of ring-enhanced cocks.

Junmyeon is pulling your pyjama bottom down. You kick your legs to help him, and he laughs, bending down to kiss your thigh. He grabs your ankles, bringing them up, allowing your shins to rest on his shoulders. He leans forward, and your hips come off the mattress to accommodate the push. You grab the chains that bind you to the bed, so ready for it.

He takes his sweet time pushing into you. He watches himself disappear into you, you can see his enthralled eyes, and you can just breathe slowly your legs twitching on his shoulders. You are so close and finally having his dick inside you is amazing.

He exhales slowly when his hips touch the back of your thighs. The ring is pushing at you’re your clitoris and you realize that the top part is made out of some elastic (and you are thankful for that).

“Ok, well…”It takes you a moment before you can focus on Junmyeon and you realize that he lost his train of thought, eyes still cast down. He licks his lips and now he is not as articulate as he was a second before. You love it. “I am going to fuck you.”

You want to say yes, please, but he doesn’t wait. He starts thrusting, he starts properly fucking you, and it’s exhilarating. He really goes to town with that. Soon enough your abdominal muscles are twitching, your legs are twitching, your pelvic floor muscles are cramping, and you are just wet all over. Your hair is wet, your body is wet, you are wet, squirming on the bed, hands yanking at the chains because you just can’t help yourself. Every time ring pushes against you, stimulating you, you are thrown back into your pliant, wordless self, every touch is sending a shiver up your body, a rippling pleasure reducing you to hot mess on your bed. You can’t get enough of that. Of Junmyeon fucking you senseless. You are rocking in time with his thrusts, but it’s more from their force.

It’s amazing. Simply amazing.

Your own pulse is thundering in your ears, as sweat from your face is cleaned off by your tears. It’s fucking amazing, the bluntly thick cock inside you throbbing. If you weren’t trashing on the bed you’d be probably melting into it.

You start to feel it. You start to feel that you are edging on the threshold of your orgasm. Of that rippling pleasure that was denied to you the whole night. Your heart starts beating faster now, so close to completion, but it’s because you fear that one more time you will be denied it. So you push it down. The pleasure. You bite your lip to feel prickling pain, you ball your hands into fists, nails sinking into your own skin. You will the pleasure away, but it’s an overwhelming wave – one that you cannot stop.

And it finally comes, taking you by surprise, earth-shattering pleasure surging through your veins. You go rigid, so overtaken by your orgasm that you don’t even realize that you are screaming.

But Junmyeon keeps going. He is still hard, hot and heavy, the ring is still pushing against your clitoris. He is also covered in sweat, knees sliding on the bed as he loses balance, but he keeps going.

It’s too much, it’s too much. After not getting it for so long it’s even more paralyzing. Your abdomen is twitching in aftershocks and you want to plead, but nothing leaves your mouth. You yank at your chains once again, but your arms are cramping and you don’t have enough strength to break free. Your senses are in overdrive and you hope for Junmyeon to come quickly.

Which he won’t. The ring. That fucking ring.

One of your legs falls down, and Junmyeon’s hips stutter rolling into you and as much as you relish this feeling you need a break. He stops, adjusts your legs on the bed, and he bends down to kiss your clavicle. He whimpers something about how amazing/debauched you look as your chest heaves. He kisses your solar plexus and you suddenly want to caress his head, but your chains are still stronger than you are.

And Junmyeon fucks into you again. This time he is slower, probably tired, but he is still going, his cock throbbing inside you, but still going. You shake, you are overstimulated, but the thing is you love it. You love the edge of pain that this gives you, love the wet lewd sounds filling your room, you love how your bed protests with every harder thrust. You love how your body pulses and how it uncontrollably shakes.

You love being at Junmyeon’s mercy.

“Faster.” You groan, wanting to be ruined. Junmyeon shakes his head, keeping his pace slow and his thrust thorough. You are not really sure if you can really handle that. You are not sure if you are going to survive next orgasm – and all the pleasure you are going to get in the meantime. He is impossibly hard inside you and he has been like that for a while now. That ring.

When Junmyeon decides to press his thumb against your clitoris (in turn to rhythmic stimulation of the ring) you are gone. You groan his name out, your voice sounds ragged, and you arch your back off the bed. At this point, your body tries to get away, but you can’t. You can only take what Junmyeon gives you.

You have no idea how long it takes before the second orgasm trashes through your body, nearly resetting you. Your mind goes blank, so mind-blowing is the pleasure. It takes over your system.

This time it takes you longer to come down. You can’t believe that you actually came twice. After not being allowed to for the whole night (that’s a hell of a reward).

Junmyeon looks quite broken when you finally focus on him. His eyes are fully blown, misted over, but he still didn’t come. He clears his throat, breath rattled.

“Do you want to shoot for the third one?”

The fear nearly knocks you out. You won’t be able to survive that, you can already tell that there will be abrasions to take care of. So you close your eyes to calm yourself down, and when you open them – Junmyeon is gone.

You slowly sit up, realizing that there is no jewellery, no Junmyeon and definitely no cock rings. There is also no sign of others. You are sitting on your bed, with your top and your pyjama bottom, and your usual mess.

The only thing that tells you that something happened is wetness that seeped through onto your bottoms.

Your heart is still beating fast when you lay back down. Your body still believes that you just experienced mindblowing sex with Junmyeon. Your body still believes that you had mindblowing sex with Minseok, Jongin, Kyungsoo, Yixing, Baekhyun, Sehun, Chanyeol and Jongdae.

Your mind starts to come to terms with that, but your body doesn’t want to, so you lay awake. Your mind tells you to go to sleep, but your body is too hyped to do that.

You won’t find it today. You probably won’t find it tomorrow. Or even soon. But the moment this memory will start to fade, you will stumble upon it. A little present left by those guys.

Because if you wonder if that was real, I can tell you it was. Because they come to girls that need fun in their life, they visit girls that need a little bit of sexy-times.

So, rest assured. When you start feeling lonely, with no one to fuck you senseless.

They will give you a sign.


End file.
